


pulp fiction

by rideorparadise



Category: Ride or Die (Visual Novel)
Genre: Age Difference, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:33:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23011804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rideorparadise/pseuds/rideorparadise
Summary: That fake blood might not have been edible.
Relationships: Jason Shaw (Ride or Die)/Original Character(s), Jason Shaw/Main Character (Ride or Die)
Kudos: 1





	pulp fiction

Freya appeared in the living room wearing a short black wig with bangs, twisting her feet on the wooden floor of his apartment to the Chuck Berry’s song she was playing in her head. The costume looked perfect to every little detail, to the way the button-up shirt hugged her waist, highlighting the curves of her body to the fake blood that reached her upper lip.

He grinned and got up, reaching for her hand and following the rhythm of her silent dance. One arm hugged around her waist, flushing their bodies together—transforming her goofy moves into slow ones. “Does it taste any good?” his eyes were on her lips, the red target he made note to wipe clean as soon as possible.

“Let me check.” she stretched out her tongue to lick it but he captured it between his teeth, making her chuckle. “What the fuck?” she managed to say when he released her.

“Not so fast.” he cupped her face, his thumb pushing her bottom lip down—her eyes fluttered closed at his gentle touch. She was unpredictable sometimes, he didn’t think he would need to clean it now—but he was glad to. He teased her by brushing his lips on hers and pulling back as she moved forward to kiss him, doing so until she gave up.

She opened her eyes to glare at him, showing her loss of patience. He caught her by surprise, tracing a soft path of her bloodied upper lip with his tongue. Her hands traveled to the nape of his neck, pushing his back straight as she matched his height by standing on the tips of her toes—capturing his mouth on a deep kiss. When they broke apart for air, the blood closest to her nose was on his face. “Now, look who needs some cleaning,” she cleaned him with her delicate fingers, biting her lip. “Go change.”

“Is there going to be any attachable low pony-tail in there?” his look was serious.

“No, I burned it.” she laughed.


End file.
